


I'm still here, just ethereal.

by DishonouredLadyship



Series: I'm Here [2]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF, mavin - Fandom
Genre: Amnesia, Angel/Demon Relationship, Drama & Romance, M/M, Major Illness, Mavin, Multi, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 07:56:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2101695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DishonouredLadyship/pseuds/DishonouredLadyship
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael and Gavin have both passed,as well as all of their friends who now wait for their arrival in the afterlife. But something is off.<br/>Michael has forgotten the meaning behind his pentagram tattoo, and he's in for a surprise when his dead best friend appears in-front of him with black eyes and a contract in his hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Departure

**Author's Note:**

> THE ONLY MAJOR DEATH IS IN THIS CHAPTER THAT'S IT!!!

The old man lazily opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling which was pure white. He looked around the room without moving his head, and saw something yellow out of the corner of his eye. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes with his aged, wrinkled finger and propped himself up with his elbow, grunting at the noise that his back made. He saw the yellow thing, which turned out to be Daffodils, in full bloom. Their yellowness created a colourful contrast against the rest of the blank room. He heard a faint beeping from the other end of the room. It was the sound of a heart monitor, steadily pumping away. A disgusting teal blue curtain separated himself and the other person. He glanced at his own heart monitor which was to the left of him; it had slowed down quite a bit from yesterday.  
He returned his gaze back to the flowers which were placed in a tall, thin vase, and scattered below them were a number of get well soon cards.  
He laid back, starting to ache. He grabbed the remote that hung from his bed and pressed a button which adjusted the angle of the bed so that he sat up.  
He could tell that the curtains by the window were open, but the curtain between him and his roommate blocked off most of the light, only a streak of light could be seen at the end of his also white bed.  
He sighed, relaxing again, listening to the sound of his breath and the two heart monitors, which were almost in unison, but not quite.  
He realised that his bladder was full. The old man quietly cursed his damn broken, old legs, which no longer served their purpose. He grabbed the remote once more, but instead pressed the worn, yellow button, which had lost its colour in the middle where it had been pressed. He pushed the button which let out a loud buzz which echoed slightly throughout the bare room. He cringed; it was such an obnoxious sound, like someone had placed a vibrating phone next to a broken microphone, so that it screeched as well as the low sound of the vibration.  
He heard the door open and watched as a young woman came into the room. She had dark brown hair tied up in a short ponytail. She had pale skin and was a little curvy, so the pink nurse’s outfit that she was wearing fitted her well, which she wore with tights and pumps that matched the colour of the uniform to complete the look. She had dark brown eyes and a kind smile. She held a light brown wooden clipboard with spreadsheets and tables attached to it. The nurses name tag read, ‘Amber Resta’. She grabbed his records that hung from the end of his bed and made a couple of notes before looking him in the eyes.  
“So then, Mr. Free, how are you feeling today?” she asked in a small voice. He nodded and was about to speak when he heard his roommate yell out to the nurse.  
“Amber! Good morning!” yelled a cheerfull,croaky voice.  
“I’ll be with you in a couple of minutes!” she yelled back to his roommate.  
“I’d like to use the toilet please.” He growled, not wanting to spoil his bed yet again.  
“Absolutely. Just give me a moment.” Amber placed the clipboard and records back onto his bed and went back outside before returning with a hoist. She turned him around in his bed so that his legs dangled loosely off the end of the bed. She wrapped a belt around his back and motioned for him to grab onto the handles, which he did. Then she pressed a button that pulled his body weight easily. She quickly grabbed another belt that was attached to the machine and put it under the old man’s bottom and clipped it onto the other end of the hoist. Now, he was lifted in mid-air and sat on thin belt that felt like it could snap at any moment.  
She pulled open the bathroom door and pulled him and the machine in backwards, so that he could easily be lowered onto the toilet without any awkwardness. She pulled down his pants, which, 70 odd years ago would have excited him, now was a pain in the ass.  
She lowered him onto the seat with another press of a button and left the bathroom, telling him the same thing he heard every day since he was dragged into this crappy hospital for his crappy bladder cancer. “Just tell me when you’re done.” She said before closing the door behind her.  
He sat on the toilet for a while, waiting for anything to come out, but when it did, he hunched over in pain. He was tempted to grab the red cord the swung gently beside him, but decided to not since all they could do to help was to stick a urethra in him, which was humiliating when he had visitors.  
He shifted his sight towards the mirror that was positioned beside the toilet and looked at him; dark grey hair, of which most had fallen out. Pale skin that was wrinkled in every possible way. He pinched his arm and lifted the thin skin from it, observing the dead skin. He let go of it and watched it slowly lap onto itself. _Disgusting,_ He thought to himself. The once healthy man he once had disintegrated, leaving behind a decrapped mess that loathed in self-pity.  
He shouted to Amber that he had finished and she quickly re-entered the room and helped him clean up. After, she took him back his room and laid him on his bed. He sighed with content when the soft pillows touched his back again.  
He realised that the curtain that separated the two men was pinned back against the wall, so that they could see each other.  
The other man was similar to him, as far as the looks for a stereotypical old man go, apart from the other man being a lot skinnier than himself. You could see the skin that barely stuck to his bones. He shivered.  
“I’ll leave you two now, call me if you need anything.” She winked at the two men. The other grinned and held his bony thumb up.  
He rolled his eyes; his roommate was always like this, seemingly flirting even though he was married.  
Silence took over the room. The beeping of the heart monitors steadily doing their thing. The two old men turned to each other and smiled.  
“Hey Michael.” They skinny man grinned.  
Michael smiled. “Hey Gavin.”

xXxXxXxXx

“I see that Millie came today.” Michael nods towards the flowers which seem to illuminate with gold.  
“Yeah she did, but you were still asleep. I hope you don’t mind?” Gavin smiled a little, knowing that Michael could get a little angry sometimes.  
“No, that’s fine. How is she?” Michael kept on looking at the daffodils.  
“She’s fine. She’s doing a great job at running Rooster Teeth with Teddy.”  
Michael nodded. “I see.” He grunted in his old voice. Gavin giggled slightly.  
“Over protective much?”  
“Shut the fuck up Gavin.” Of course he had to be a little protective over her, he had sworn to his boss that he and Gavin would watch over her, and Michael was a man of his word.  
Gavin did shut up, but still smiled. He threw his legs off the bed and hauled himself into a wheelchair that sat next to his bed. He grabbed his heart monitor and pulled it with him, awkward as it may seem. He stopped next to Michael and took hold of his hand.  
“Do you think we’ll both get to heaven?” he whispered, almost inaudible. He made small circular motion on Michael's hand.  
Michael stayed quiet for a while. He pondered the question, like he did every day. He glanced at the pentagram tattoo which still branded him. “I damn hope so.” He said simply.  
Gavin nodded, also looking at the tattoo. He can’t remember its exact origin, but he still shivers by just looking at it.  
“Gavin.” Michael coughed before carrying on. “I have a feeling that I won’t make it through the night.” He nodded towards the heart monitor, which had slowed substantially.  
“Michael, please don’t say such things.” Gavin cried, his grip tightening on Michael’s hand.  
“Gavin, you know as well as I do. We’re both old farts, both on our deathbeds.” He paused. “We gotta face facts. It just happens to be me who will go first. Big fucking deal, I just want to get it over and done with.”  
“Michael…” he croaked. “Please wait for me.” A single tear fell from his eyes.  
Michael squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head towards the ceiling. “I don’t think I can.” He held Gavin’s hand tightly. “I love you.”  
Gavin rested his head on Michaels hand and kissed it, his finger tracing the wedding ring on Michael’s finger.  
“I love you too, you big doughnut.”

xXxXxXxXx

Gavin woke up the next morning in a daze, and looked around the room which was the same as always, with the teal blue curtain separating him and his lover. He did what he did every day; listened to his own heart monitor and Michael. But something was different.  
In a panic, he grabbed the remote that also hung by his bed but instead pressed the red button, multiple times.  
Suddenly, a team of doctors rushed into the room accompanied by Amber.  
“What’s wrong Mr Free?” they asked in a worry as they gathered around his bed, checking his pulse.  
“I can only hear my own heart monitor. Has Michael been moved to a different room? Is he okay?” Gavin stammered. All action ceased between the staff. They glanced at each other, pity on their faces.  
“Gavin, I’m so sorry.” Amber spoke first, slightly choked up. “Michael Free died last night, I'm sorry.”

xXxXxXxXx

“It’s sad isn't it?” Amber’s friend, Kirsty, also a nurse, said in a pitiful voice.  
“Yeah.” Amber mumbled. She stared blankly at the screen in front of her.

_Name: Gavin Free_  
 _Age: 86_  
 _Date of death: 7th June, 2075_  
 _Time of death: 16:34_  
 _Additional Information:_  
 _Stopped eating his food, fed by a neonatal unit for one week._  
 _To be put into a coma and to then turn off life support machine.  
_ _Signed by Gavin Free and Jennifer Free (Relation: daughter)_


	2. Torment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael and Gavin have both passed,as well as all of their friends who now wait for their arrival in the afterlife. But something is off.  
> Michael has forgotten the meaning behind his pentagram tattoo, and he's in for a surprise when his dead best friend appears in-front of him with black eyes and a contract in his hands.

Michael opened his eyes, but he could not see. He held out his hands in front of him, but they were shrouded in darkness. He tried walking, but his legs felt like lead. He tried to scream, but no sound escaped from his mouth. He was trapped.

Suddenly, a bright flash of pure light shone in front of him, making the darkness soon fade away. It was glowing profusely, radiating an aura like no other. Michael looked down at his wrinkled legs that were covered in mouldy bed sores, and watched in awe as they slowly started to dissipate. Feeling began to return to them and with effort, he was able to put one foot in front of the other. He let out an astonished laugh, watching himself walk after being sat in a wheelchair for over 20 years. He looked up again, to see a silhouette of someone stood in the light.  
"Geoff?" Michael squeaked, his broken, ancient voice becoming more youthful with every word. "Holy shit."  
"Hiya buddy," Geoff flashed a toothy grin, "Come 'ere ya little shit. You better have taken good care of my little girl."  
An image of Millie appeared in Michael's mind. She had grown up happy, surrounded by her friends. As expected, she began to work at RoosterTeeth, occasionally playing games with the 2nd generation of Achievement Hunter, other times just helping around making props and merchandise with the skills he had learnt from her mother. She got married and even had children. He was filled with happiness when they called him 'Grandpa Mikey'.  
Now, she was retired, with grandchildren of her own. She had lived her life to the full, and he was to proud of her.  
"Of course I did boss, I'm a man of my word, you know." Michael grinned, his pace quickening as his body got lighter.  
"You better have, asshole. Now how about me and you go grab a beer, like the good old times?"  
Michael was crying now as he ran towards the light. "Sound great, Geoff!"

All of a sudden, Michael was on the floor after tripping on seemingly nothing. He looked behind his back and his eyes widened in horror. The darkness was growing, black tongues whipped against the light, infecting it, turning it a lurid colour of red. In the centre of the dark abyss was an otherworldly beast.  
It was about ten feet tall with spikey wings which were wider than twice of the beast's body length. Two thick, slimy tails chased after it like large worms, which pulsated with crimson blood, like the rest of it's muscular body. At the ends of its long, muscular arms were claws sharper than any samurai sword. It has four ginormous horns that sculpted around its head. And its face, God its face, it was something from nightmares.  
And it was running towards him.

"Michael! Get up you idiot!" Geoff shouted in a frenzy.  
Michael was snapped back to reality, adrenaline suddenly pumping through his veins like a sugar rush. He heaved himself from the ground and started sprinting towards the light. But it was getting further away from him, not only that, it was fading. Geoff kept on shouting his name, a helpless bystander to the scene playing out infront of him.  
The darkness began to envelop Michael again, the tetacles trying to grap at his feet, to pull him under.

Then everything stopped.  
Geoff was no longer shouting Michael's name. The white light was no longer there to welcome him, to comfort him, to protect him. The darkness had won.  
Michael turned around only to be faced with the monster. He fell back, panting heavily. It bent down slightly and exhaled hot, sweating air on him, the smell of rust and metal overpowering Michael's senses. It smirked down at the pathetic human before him.  
"Hello, old friend." It spoke in a distorted, yet familiar voice.  
Michael's eye's widened, he was quaking with fear, incoherent words tumbling out of his mouth. But he was able to spit out one word; "Ray?"

xXxXxXxXx

All at once, the beast before him dissolved in a mess of dark red sludge, only to be replaced by Ray, who looked the same as he did when he was in Achievement Hunter. He wore the same black rimmed glasses as always, with black hair that curled and pointed around his ghostly features. From his hair sprouted two horns that were almost identical to the ones he saw on the monster just moments ago. He wore Achievement Hunter's 'Let's Play' shirt and black skinny jeans to match, with a pair of black Vans. He had the same pentagram tattoo as Michael, in the same place.

"Ray?" Michael repeated, more confusion in his tone of voice than before.  
"That's me" He smiled playfully. He held out his hand to Michael, who hadn't even realised he was on the floor. He took it and heaved himself up. "So that was a thing." He chuckled.  
Michael looked at him dumbfoundedly. "What the hell was that?" He raised his voice, not out of anger but fear. 'Was that the fuck-ugly monstrosity that chased me?' He thought to himself.  
"Come on now, I'm now that ugly am I?" Ray pouted.  
"I don't know what you mean." Michael stuttered. YOU CALLED ME A MONSTROSITY. A voice boomed in his head. Michael cowered away from Ray and covered his ears, whimpering.  
"So anyway, let's get this contract underway."

"Contract?" Michael asked. Ray slapped his forehead with his palm, rubbing his eyes and groaning loudly, obviously irritated. "Of course you can't fucking remember. NATURALLY." Ray stretched his arms out to Michael and grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him slightly. "You and your damn husband need to get your memory checked out. The whole point of the tattoo was to keep you reminded for this to happen so I don't have to explain it all over again!" Ray shouted.

Now it was Michael’s turn to get angry. “Dude, if you hadn’t realised, it has been years since this ‘contract’ was made.” Michael signalled air quotations. “How the hell was I supposed to remember?”

“Well, now you’re going to have to endure another kiss from me so you can remember. I hope you’re happy.” Ray grunted, pulling Michael close to him.

Michael tried to pull away, using all of his strength to try and get the kissing maniac _well_ the fuck away from him. But the once weak and lanky lad suddenly had the strength of 10 body builders, and Michael was pushed to the ground once more.

“Ray, what the hell?” Michael questioned, still trying to kick Ray off of him.

“I need you to remember the contract that we made; otherwise it will not have the desired effect! Now quit being a baby, it’ll only take a second.” Ray pursed his lips and inched closer to Michael’s.

“My lips belong to Gavin, and Gavin only, you dick!” Michael turned his head away from Ray, stretching his neck as much as possible.

Ray frowned, he was getting tired of this stupid squabbling, as fun as it may have been. He closed his eyes and began to mutter under his breath. Michael turned back to Ray, slightly worried but also curious about Ray’s actions. When he opened his eyes again, they were red.

“Et mortale hoc adponentur ligare.” Ray rumbled. Black hands slithered around Michael’s arms, worming up to his head and neck. They tightened, and with a sudden movement, Michael’s head was facing once again, but this time he could not move away. “That should hold you still.” Ray cupped Michael’s cheeks and kissed him, very lightly, but the taste of blood was evident on his lips.

Michael felt himself losing consciousness, his body finally becoming limp.

 _Memoriam resera contractus._ Ray’s voice whispered in his mind.

And then, Michael remembered.

xXxXxXxXx

“Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Ray sighed, wiping his lips. Michael stood up once more, the hands that held him down now turning to dust. Michael said nothing. “Well, I’ll say it again. Let’s get this contract underway!”

“Tell me, Ray.” Michael said. “How exactly am I supposed to become a demon anyway?”

“You’ll see.” Ray sneered.

He snapped his fingers together and within the blink of an eye, they transported away from the never ending darkness into a room.

The walls were almost bare, exempt for the mould and the odd cupboard here and there. The room was almost dark, apart for one florescent light in the centre of the room, flickering every now and then. In the centre of the room was something similar to a dentist’s chair, except there were straps of leather dangling by the armrests.

With another snap of Ray’s fingers, the room became fully lit. Michael squinted at the sudden change in lighting. And then he realised what was in the previously darkened areas of the room; _torture tools._

Weapons and utensils that are commonly found in horror movies and games, from ghost stories and urban legends. All of that was here, and more.

“Ray, I-” Michael started, but trailed off.

“This is my own little personal room, courtesy of Lucifer.” He did a little bow to the room, as if he was thanking it. “Full of things from nightmares. It’s even able to change its landscape. So, for example, you were scared of water, this room would become full of water. It’s pretty damn nifty.” He smiled proudly at the room. “I called it Bertie.”

“You named your room Bertie?” Michael was still in shock yet still was able to mock Ray and his room.

“Absolutely, got a problem with that?” He gave Michael a stern look.

“Not at all.” Michael coughed, smiling slightly. He was still Ray, after all.

“Good to hear.” Ray nodded. There was a momentary silence. “Let’s get a business then.” He took Michael’s wrist and dragged him over to the chair and strapped his hands and feet to the chair. It was only then that Michael realised he was naked, and he was exposing himself completely. He blushed violently. He felt utterly vulnerable, and he should have. Ray pulled on an apron that was rested on a tray beside the chair, revealing the contents underneath it. Scalpels and knifes of every shape and size glimmered brightly under the fluorescent lights. It looked like a scene from Surgeon Simulator. There was also an iPod in a speaker dock. “To make you a demon,” Ray broke the heavy silence that hung over both of them. “We have to harden you up.”

“I hope you don’t mean what I’m thinking.” Michael stared down at his bare crotch. Ray laughed hard, like he wasn’t a demon, like he was just Ray. But it turned to a menacing laugh when he ran his fingers across the blades.

“That depends Michael. Is that your phobia? To commit sexual actions with someone other than Gavin?” Michael gritted his teeth. “But we need to wipe your memory _now_ , you know, to get it out of the way.” He pointed his right index finger and moved towards Michael’s forehead.

“Woah, hold up there buddy!” Michael writhed in the leather bound straps. “You never told me about this!”

“Yes, I did, in the contract.” Ray stated.

“Ray, please, I don’t want to forget!” Michael pleaded, tears threatening to fall.

“A demon with memories and emotions is pathetic. We need to start again, turn over a new leaf, wipe the slate clean and all that crap.”

 “Ray, at least keep my memories of Gavin.” Ray stopped just centimetres from the middle of his eyebrows. “I’m begging you.” Tears were flooding now, feeling foreign his cheeks.

“You do realise that if you keep your memories of him, they will probably become corrupt anyway? Surely that must be more painful than just wiping them all away?”

Michael shook his head. “No Ray. To just have a memory of your loved one in your head is complete bliss.” He smiled at the thought of Gavin with his shit eating grin.

Ray raised an eyebrow. “Okay then. But damn, humans are weird.” He touched his finger to Michael’s head, small electric sparks flying from the contact point. Michael felt exposed, what with Ray poking at every part of his mind, making him remember things he thought were long forgotten. After a couple of seconds, Ray quickly moved his finger away, revealing a blue, worm shaped thing from Michael’s head. It squirmed vigorously, curling and straightening, trying to get away from Ray’s grasp and back into Michael’s head, but to no avail.

Michael slowly opened his eyes, feeling nauseas. “Is that my –“

“Memories? Yes.” Ray finished his sentence walking away from him and towards a small jar. He put the worm inside and screwed the top of it. It became dormant and started to glow.

“We’re all set.” He smiled as he returned to the chair, picking up a small knife with a sharp edge and placed it on Michael’s chest. “Ego mortalis anima mea, et irritum fingere.” Ray spoke, making the first incision. Michael breathed in sharply, swearing under his breath. “To make you a demon, well it should only take a couple of hundred years. Let’s start.” He pressed play on the iPod, ‘A Day Dream Away’ by All Time Low playing at maximum volume echoed throughout the room, yet it was unable to mask the screams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quite a long chapter, took me two days to research (holy crap there was a lot of research!), plan and write. I hope you enjoyed it, please stay tuned! :)


End file.
